Superficial World of the Supernaturally Gifted 2
by ThisPeregrine
Summary: THE SEQUEL, AS REQUESTED! The glorious sequel to the 15 chapter supernatural phenomenon. If you're new to this story, please refer to the Supernatural genre section of Clique Fanfics and read the first.
1. The Introduction and the City

The Superficial World of the Supernaturally Gifted SEQUEL

As requested, the glorious sequel to the 15 chapter supernatural phenomenon. If you're new to this story, please refer to the Supernatural genre section of Clique Fanfics and read the first.

PART 1: as told by Massie

Let's not dwell on the past or reminisce about the good old days when Claire, Cam, Landon, Dempsey, Derrick and I used to attend the mysterious school for the super gifted run by a bunch of sadistic authorities. Let us also not remember the time when we successfully infiltrated the renowned Foster City—the city that _hates _supers.

That's all very interesting, of course, interesting enough to make a decent story of it, I reckon. But to be painfully truthful, there wasn't any time to dwell on the past at the moment.

After an epic escapade like our group of brave adventurers just endured, one would say, "hey, guys, do you want to lie down for a moment? You've just been attacked multiple times, contained in a dark prison and two of you were forced to fight to the death by a mind-controller who was actually a closet-super under the pretense of an anti-super!" (Incidentally, both who were sentenced to a fight to the death emerged alive. Pure skill? I think so.)

But no one said such things to us. Not many people knew what we'd just accomplished, what five sixteen year olds had just undertaken and achieved. And no one would care either. The world was still a discriminatory bitch. Most people still despised supers; Foster City itself being the pinnacle and root of all the indignation.

But that wasn't stopping us. No, it would take a lot to stop us—a miracle even.

I suppose it wouldn't surprise you if I told you our group was currently standing on top of the statue of liberty, admiring the priceless view and talking excitedly about the future ahead of us. On top of that, we didn't even have to pay admission to the dumb tourist attraction. One of the many benefits of teleportation is all I'll say for now.

Cam and Claire were as close as gravity would allow. Somehow almost dying several times had brought them closer, as if each second they feared one would be abruptly shot or knifed from behind, or kidnapped. The sad thing was, those were totally rational fears.

"Should we go?" Landon asked. Landon and I, despite our current relationship standing (girlfriend/boyfriend) were not sitting very close at all.

His hands were covered in thin, black leather gloves, something that protected me from his death touch, but he was still very paranoid about getting too close.

"Yeah," I answered, somewhat absently.

I was keeping my eye on Derrick. He certainly would not be permitted to leap off the statue's tip and soar around the city in front of millions of curious eyes. Not in such a city. Though the look in his eyes sure implied he was fantasizing about it.

Claire, Cam, and Derrick silently crowded around me. Physical contact was mandatory in order to make a teleport. Since Dempsey and Landon both had the death touch, I couldn't transport them. Thankfully, Landon, whose ability was power absorption, had absorbed my power before he'd copied Dempsey's horrible death touch ability.

Landon was a horrible, messy teleporter, and often they'd take a quick misadventure to some obscure town in Texas before arriving at their desired destination. It was a thing of progression, though.

I never would quite understand the death touch completely. I'd just recently discovered that if two people both have the death each other, they can make physical contact without hurting each other. If you have it, you've also developed immunity against it.

We waited patiently for Dempsey and Landon at the base of the statue, where tourists and guards hurried around us.

When they finally arrived, their sudden appearance went unnoticed.

I liked New York City already, I decided. No one noticed when you materialized beside them. Everyone was too busy.

Friday night, midnight. The dim lights of the Central park streetlights illuminated the darkened paths just barely enough for us to navigate our way towards the "biggest statue", as Dr. Josh Hotz had instructed us to do in the ambiguous brochure he'd left for us.

He'd invited us to audition for something called, "the violet crusade", an organization of superheroes.

Who really knew why we were ready for more adventure?

There was a crowd forming around what was presumably "the biggest statue", a war memorial.

It was mostly colorfully dressed young people who were scattered about the area, talking nervously and pacing, as if reciting lines before a big theatre premier.

"There are a lot of supers here," Derrick noted timidly.

His observation, for once, was not completely ridiculous. There were at least one hundred people milling about the statue. That was one hundred people like us, all standing together in one place. I felt like we were attending some sort of rebellion, not a audition.

I wanted to hold onto Landon for console, but even though he was wearing gloves, I knew he would shrug my contact off. He was only protecting me, anyway…

We stood at the edge of the crowd, watching and waiting with blank expressions.

Then a figure climbed up on top of the memorial and shouted for everyone's attention. The nervous chatter ceased immediately and all heads turned to face this anonymous figure.

"Hello," he welcomed us warmly, extending his arms in a gesture of greeting. "Welcome to the first ever open auditions for the Violet Crusade. My name is Dr. Josh E. Hotz, vice-president of the Violet Crusade."

I exchanged a puzzled look with the group. This was the man who'd come to us to invite us to the auditions.

"You may be wondering why we are holding such a private meeting in such a public place," he said, scanning his audience with eager eyes. "Well, a friend of mine who can manipulate sound and light has projected a one meter thick force field around this statue and its vicinity. No one can see, or hear us. Nor can they enter this part of the park."

There was a collective murmur of excitement and approval in the crowd.

"Now, I have another friend here, a member of the Violet Crusade. I'd like to introduce her to you."

A pale, small blonde climbed gracefully onto the memorial to stand beside Josh.

She was beautiful, and her expression suggested she knew this.

"This is Olivia. She can sense other super's abilities with perfect accuracy. So not only does she know what you can do, she knows how well you can do it." Josh grinned deviously. "Olivia will know your level of danger and power just by looking at you."

Dempsey swallowed uneasily.

"She will determine if there are any traitors in this crowd. And by traitors, I mean non-supers."

Olivia narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the crowd before her.

"No traitors," she announced, satisfied. Her wary eyes we on Dempsey. He sheepishly slipped behind Massie in an attempt to shield himself from her omniscient eyes.

The crowd stirred, impatient now.

Olivia broke her gaze and left the impromptu stage, with annoying grace.

"Now, I know you're all impatient and want to begin with the auditions. So we'll begin after a quick explanation." He surveyed the crowd with uncharacteristic sternness.

"There are ten spots available in the Violet Crusade. Judging on what talent and determination I see tonight, ten will return to headquarters with me tonight to arrange ordinary cover-up lives for them. The rest will return home and never speak of this or of the identities of our recruits. We'll be watching, and if you ever spitefully slip one of their names or identities, we will dispatch a memory-eraser to take care of you and your dangerous information…" He paused, letting the crowd process this rather daunting information.

"Alright!" he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's begin."

Everyone was arranged into groups of ten. A Violet Crusade member supervised. Each auditioner would state their ability and an alias—this was all a very secretive affair. I called myself, "Lassie," similar enough to my name so I would respond to it when I heard it. The supervisor smiled admiringly at me when I told her my alias, thinking I had some sort of profound love for the fictional dog.

After information, the hundred of us or so regrouped. The supervisors explained that we were to play a big game of capture the flag. The supervisors and Josh would watch from the memorial and analyze our talent as we competed. A few of the auditioners groaned at hearing they would have to compete in a childish game.

But I was ecstatic. Capture the flag was nothing to me. I wouldn't even have to run after I found the flag! I'd just teleport back to home base and wave it nonchalantly over my head!

The group was separated into two teams: dark and light.

Claire, Dempsey and I were situated on the light team.

An aggressive college student, whose alias was suitably "the aggressor" insisted on hiding the flag in the most obvious place, to confuse the enemy.

It took the opponents ten minutes to stash their flag.

When the game began, I immediately appeared on the other side.

We weren't wearing colors to indicate which team we were on. "In the crime world, you may not know whose the good guy and whose the bad guy," Josh had told us. "You'll just have to _know_."

No one even glanced twice at me as I snooped around the trees. I was going to win this without even breaking a sweat.

I encountered an adversary near the frog pond.

A small, dark skinned girl with waist length dread locks suspiciously asked my identity.

"Are you dark or light?" she demanded.

"Dark," I answered instantly. "Just checking for traitors."

She continued to stare." If you were actually dark," she said slowly, "you would've asked my identity, since you're supposedly looking for traitors."

I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid. And I should've teleported right out of there to safety, but I was up for a little chase.

I snickered evilly, making her flinch a little. "So what, I'm light! What are you going to do?"

I waited for her to evaporate into thin air, or appear right in front of me. But she just started running after me at a pathetically sluggish pace.

I feigned a horrified scream and started running away, at a leisurely jog.

I was laughing hysterically as I made my complacent way towards the line when I suddenly hit something stone hard and bounced off.

Dazed, I pulled myself up, thinking I'd met a tree on my blind run through the forest.

A boy with unruly blond curls was standing over me, smirking. "Go to jail," he ordered, pointing.

I sullenly obeyed, sitting down beside Dempsey with a moan.

"How did you get caught?" I asked disappointedly.

"I'm not good for much except killing," he said with a forlorn sigh.

There were several others, dejected and waiting for an unlikely rescue, waiting in the dark-side prison.

Meanwhile, the dark had infested the light's territory. Sooner or later some loser would stumble over the flag, sticking out of a rock but invisible in the darkness.

Claire appeared, smiling, and slapped everyone freedom.

Josh, on the monument, let out a little cheer for her.

We all made a mad dash for the line—well, I just appeared on the other side of it and started smacking darksiders left and right, but they had to make their way back.

Landon was sprinting his way towards his territory determinedly. He had no pursuers, because no one could run as fast as he could. He was gripping the flag.

I appeared a few paces in front of him, and as he was passing in his hurry, snatched the flag from his hand.

He didn't realize it'd been stolen until he'd passed the line.

I smiled smugly, waving it at him.

He grimaced.

The game continued in this same, tedious fashion.

I was captured twice more, again and again by the curly haired boy who always smirked when he came out of nowhere and tagged me.

As the game came to its conclusion, Landon ended up using his faulty teleportation to win.

If only the curly boy hadn't been foiling my plans, I'd have won the game.

Everyone was sweating and breathing raggedly.

Josh congratulated Landon and the dark team, and the light team ignored the celebrating dark team jealously.

"We've seen a lot of talent," Josh said, exchanging a look with his score of supervisors. There was a clipboard in his hand. It was the list of the recruits they'd chosen.

"And unfortunately, this isn't one of those things where determination and dedication trump merit," he said flatly. "Your power is what brought us to choose you. This game was a short demonstration of how you _used _your power—effectively, or ineffectively."

He glanced down at his clipboard. "When I call your alias and power, join me on the monument. Darwin, telekinetic and mind reader." A tall, lanky bespectacled boy mounted the monument, making no attempt to hide his triumphant smile. Everyone clapped politely and grudgingly.

"Lion, Invisible," he continued, and Claire climbed awkwardly onto the monument, grinning widely at Massie.

"Artemis, pyrokinetic." A skinny girl with long dark hair stepped onto the monument, her expression vacant.

"Lee, regenerator." The clever girl with dreadlocks.

"Crane, Power Absorbtionist." Landon smiled grimly at Massie from his high position on the statue.

"Fish, Phasisionist." Cam hurried to join his girlfriend on the statue.

"Daren, flyer." Derrick took a leap and landed successfully on the monument. A few audience members tittered at his cocky entrance. He bowed to them.

"Denny, Death touch." Josh read Dempsey's name with a touch of coldness in his voice. Dempsey approached the stage quickly, as silence and apprehensive eyes followed him.

"Sam, teleporter." The blonde, curly haired boy who'd foiled her attempt to capture the flag so many times cockily appeared on the monument, making a few audience members gasped.

For the first time, Massie considered that she might not be chosen. They already had a teleporter after all.

"Finally, Lassie, teleporter." Massie followed Sam's lead and appeared on the monument beside him.

He smiled at her. "I had no idea," he said.

"Me neither," she replied, raising her eyebrows at him.

The rest of the crowd trickled away, disappointed.

Josh turned to his recruits, his Violet Crusade and grinned. "Welcome, then!" he said cheerily. "We'll start heading back to headquarters now."

They walked the one-mile back to the secluded headquarters.

Massie talked a great deal with her fellow teleporter on their journey "home".

His real name was Salem, and he'd traveled all the way from Newfoundland to audition.

"I came here for excitement," he explained in his Irish-tinted Canadian accent. "And I'm going to get it."

"You think?" Massie prompted.

"Yes," Salem said, his hazel eyes shining hopefully. "This? This is the real game. And the games—they're about to begin."

REVIEW!


	2. The Elevator and the Defiance

Brief Author's Foreword: Hey so I'm incredibly busy so if the reviews aren't plentiful I may drop this story. Also, to the dedicated reader that noticed that "The Seven Laws of Demonism" went missing, you are awesome. Also, it is missing because it wasn't getting enough reviews. "It went missing" is a euphemism for "I heartlessly deleted it" by the by.

PART 2: as told by Landon

The headquarters were situated in a quiet, ominously empty neighborhood of the city, deviously disguised as an advertisement agency.

"Leo's Advertising" read the neon flashing sign on the crumbling building.

"A few people have come in believing it's an ad agency," Josh told us as we approached the four story brick headquarters. "We've just told them we're in recession. They always seem pretty convinced."

What he didn't explain was why the Violet Crusade's headquarters had to be kept secret. Was it because spiteful villains whose evil plans had been foiled by violet crusaders may attack the place if they knew the location? Would anti-supers surround the place with signs that read, "_you're not welcome_!"?

I didn't know. I knew that we had to keep our identities secret from the public as crusaders. That was the only solid information about this organization and my involvement in it that I had knowledge of…

"Do any of you actually live in this city?"

The pretty girl with dread locks tentatively raised her hand.

We were standing in a clump outside the building. The supervisors who had accompanied us on the nearly silent walk from the park started to trickle away, including the radiantly beautiful Olivia.

"Lee, er, what's your real name?" Josh asked.

"Lorena," she replied with a small smile. "And I do live in NYC."

"Well then, Lorena, you won't be living at headquarters. You'll continue with your life as usual. But do NOT tell anyone of your involvement in this organization. Do not even acknowledge the existence of this organization."

Lorena nodded earnestly.

"Everyone else will live at headquarters and start new lives here," Josh continued, leading us into the building.

The interior was bleaker than the horrid outside.

The reception room was poorly lit and sparsely furnished. The walls were white and unadorned. A blue elevator entrance seemed to be the only splash of color in the unwelcoming room.

"The other floors have no furniture either," Josh said, and I groaned inwardly. This Violet Crusade was horribly funded, evidently. How we were supposed to live in this dump without furniture?

"Don't dismay," Josh cautioned, catching our displeased expressions. "These aren't really the headquarters. This is just the entrance."

We piled into the elevator and he pressed floor 3, then two, then three again, and then basement. It wasn't indecisiveness—it was a password.

The elevator dropped abruptly.

Most of the elevators' occupants shrieked and grasped onto the flimsy metal railing for support.

"This is all perfectly normal," Josh assured us calmly.

The elevator stopped dropping and began steadily moving sideways.

"What's happening?" Lorena demanded uneasily. "Are we moving _sideways_?"

"Indeed we are." Josh smiled to himself and lit a cigarette.

We moved sideways for several minutes in complete silence.

The only communication between the elevators' passengers was exchanges of bewildered looks and wide, questioning eyes.

The elevator came to a halt, and then began ascending.

"Now _this_ is conventional," Sam—now known as Salem— muttered sardonically.

"I bet you really don't know where we're headed," Josh said, his remark made incoherent by the cigarette sticking out of the side of his mouth.

"How is this even happening?" Cam wondered aloud.

Josh removed the cigarette from his mouth and looked at Cam. "Thanks to our founder and director's financial assets, we were able to build an underground system that transports this elevator and this elevator only all the way from that dump to the center of the city." He smiled to himself. "You will not believe where we end up."

The elevator slowly came to a stop.

"Ready kids?" Josh pressed the third floor button, then the second—four times.

The doors opened.

Claire gasped behind me.

A red velvet lined hallway stretched out in front of us.

At the end of the hallway was a bay window overlooking the city. "Is this…a hotel?" Darwin—whose real named was Chris—asked uncertainly.

"Not a hotel," Josh said. "A casino."

Everyone poured out of the elevator excitedly.

"Our headquarters are the 49th and 50th floors of the Golden Nugget Casino. Our lovely founder and director bought the floors for us. To the patrons and employees of this casino, these floors we have, the final floors are simply under construction, which is why no one is permitted up here. And besides, the owner of the casino programmed the casino's elevators to only go to the 48th floor and nothing further. The only way to get here is to use our magic elevator or whatever you'd like to call it. Or flying"—he smiled, sending a nod in Derrick's direction. "Which by the way, is strictly forbidden."

He led us down the hallway. "This is the 49th floor. A private stairway leads to the fiftieth, which are the living quarters. This floor is the actual headquarters. Each room is labeled according to its purpose."

I read some of the door labels as we strode by: MEETING ROOM, EQUIPMENT ROOM, COSTUMES, LAB…

We climbed a small wooden stairway to the sleeping quarters. The hallway was very wide, and luscious couches and mahogany side tables were placed intermittently down the hallway.

"At the end of the hall is a kitchen. You make your own meals, but we'll provide the actual food. Beside the kitchen is the commons room. There's a flat screen, a book shelf, several desks, and some couches."

We were showed these central rooms, which were furnished like presidential suites.

"Two people to each room. There are 8 bedrooms on this floor, and the other five are for live-in supervisors and myself. The other members are only day-time people, including the director himself who has an estate in the upper-east side."

"Now," Josh produced a clipboard from his worn messenger bag. "You will be assigned to a roommate. No whining about arrangements, I beg of you, if we're not all friends anyway, this whole deal won't work." He glanced down at the clipboard. "Claire and Mer, room 1." Mer, who was previously known as Artemis, smiled and wandered down the hall with her new roommate.

"Massie, since Lorena doesn't live here, you get your own room, but Lorena will sleep here when necessary, so please don't demolish the other bed." Josh raised his head to nod at her. Massie managed a weak smile. "Room 2, Massie," he added. She walked slowly and reluctantly down the hall. Lorena followed after a moment's deliberation.

"Dempsey and Derrick, room 4. Cam and Chris, room 5. And finally, Landon and Salem, room 6."

Josh stuffed the clipboard in his beg, took a drag from his cigarette and headed off down the hall.

"Good luck and all," he called over his shoulder.

I looked blankly at my new roommate, a tall curly haired boy, who had maintained an expression of unimpressed disappointment throughout the entire introduction.

"Landon," I offered hesitantly, extending my arm towards him.

He smirked haughtily at my gloved hand.

"You caught the bug, eh?" He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving me contemplating his cryptic comment.

When I realized he was referring to the death-touch, the moment to be angry had long passed. I hurried after him, stifling my newfound resentment for my new roommate. Three strikes and he's out, I thought decidedly.

PART 2 CONTINUED as told by (introducing) Kemp

"Watch 'em, Bear, they know nothing," I said to my oversized companion.

Bear and I were stationed outside the Golden Nugget Casino equipped with telescopic binoculars.

"Right," Bear said with a short laugh. "Stupid as grass," he agreed after a pause.

Stupid Violet Crusaders, I thought bitterly. Why make several bay windows in your headquarters so you and your stupid activities can be seen from 5th street pedestrians? Well, 5th street pedestrians who happened to have multi-thousand scientifically revolutionary telescopic binoculars. Still—their every movement was on display—and to _their enemies_.

The violet crusade didn't know it had a designated enemy yet.

The Defiance had begun years ago, while the Violet Crusade had only started recruiting that night.

The Defiance had known of the Violet Crusade ever since the idea had popped into the current founder's head. The leader of the Defiance, a smart man who deserved my rare admiration named Tobias Grimm, had a keen precognition, and could see an idea form in a stranger's mind from miles—and minutes—away.

"They're everything we're not," Tobias had said exasperatedly when he'd discovered this rather significant morsel of information. I was his favorite recruit, his docile-on-the-outside, begging-for-blood-on-the-inside star pupil. "We'll have to eliminate them," he concluded, rubbing his stubble-covered chin as he did when he was making a difficult decision.

The Defiance stood for exactly its title. The regulars oppressed and isolated supers, and why shouldn't we retaliate? Tobias thought we definitely should. He also thought we were a superior race, which is why the regulars oppressed us—it was out of fear.

The Defiance had no real purpose. It was a gathering of bitter, vengeful supers who caused riot activity to keep the regulars afraid. Sometimes we were given projects, like to assassinate a particularly annoying anti-super. Usually we'd just mess with regular authority and free supers from prisons. Nothing too serious.

"Do you think we'll have to kill them all?" Bear asked shakily. Bear, despite his size and horror-film murderer appearance, did not like killing people.

"Probably," I answered honestly, with a sad sigh. "So much potential though," I muttered. "And they're wasting their abilities on freaking crime fighting. They're not even interested in helping their own."

"Maybe we could offer?" Bear said.

I shook my head. "No, Bear. They're on the other side already. Can't bring them back, you know. The wall is too thick for our offers to even be audible to them…"

Bear frowned, as he didn't grasp the rather intricate metaphor, and turned back to his spying.

There was a particularly nice looking recruit with blonde hair, always playing around with a scrawny brunette kid. When we infiltrated the place and confiscated everything valuable and annihilated every recruit, I would whisk this blonde away and save her for myself.

"You're mine," I whispered with a devious smile.

PART 2 (CONTINUED): as told by Claire

"Costumes first," Josh announced the next morning in the meeting room. "Every super hero needs a costume. Nothing ridiculous; no capes, no tights, no boots. Sensible footwear, some wigs, and comfortable clothing will do.

Olivia, dressed in a crisp white blouse and dark jeans rolled a rack of colorful clothing into the room.

"You won't need masks," Josh continued. "But your wig should at least cover some of your face."

Olivia disappeared, and returned with a boxful of wigs. She distributed them amongst the recruits.

They were plain, sensible wigs—nothing strange or eye grabbing. The one that caught my attention was a wig with short, black hair with a swooping side bang.

"Choose your wig carefully, then accessories if you need them."

I pawed around in the box and retrieved a pair of Clark Kent non-prescription thick framed glasses and a stick of bright red lipstick. The look would go quite well once pieced together.

Hours later, when costumes had been pieced together, and crime-fighting names had been chosen (I settled with _Phantom_) I found myself registering at Newton High alongside Massie, Cam, Landon, Derrick, Dempsey, Mer, Chris, and Salem.

"The important thing is," Josh had said, "to pretend not to know each other while in school and in public. If you stick as a group in school, then when you're seen in the streets, beating up a knife-gang, people will put two and two together…"

When we returned to headquarters, I found myself feeling very anxious suddenly about the founders of our former school…the ones who were still out to get us…

I spent the course of the elevator ride thinking about Layne. I hadn't really given her any clue to where I'd gone. I was certain she'd heard about my adventures, but I'd never even said goodbye. I fervently hoped she was doing well.

When the elevator jerked to a halt, I stepped out immediately and headed for the commons room, where there were three macs.

I sent Layne the following email:

Layne,

It's been a while.

I'm in NYC, in an organization I can't really talk about.

I don't know what you've heard, but I went to Foster City with Cam, Massie, Dempsey, and some people you may not know…we got into a bunch of trouble and basically we ended up here.

I have no idea what it's like back there. Are they looking for us? If so, don't tell anyone about my whereabouts.

I really hope to see you soon…

Claire

Short and sweet, I thought. Not exactly a good guideline to write by though if you're in my position.

"Hey." Mer was behind me, smiling uneasily.

Mer was a pyrokenetic, someone who could manipulate fire with their mind. She'd yet to demonstrate her power, but in my mind, the power of fire only brought destruction.

"Some person's been calling incessantly on the headquarters phone for you, Claire. I don't know how they got the number, considering the director only gave it to police stations to distribute to people in emergency situations…the guy insists he knows you and needs to speak with you."

"What's his name?" I asked, a little rattled.

"He won't say. He doesn't know yours either," she added. "He keeps asking for "the blonde who hangs around the dark-haired kid". So, that's you."

I stood and headed for the phone.

Salem and Massie were standing beside the phone booth, looking miffed.

I picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"It's you," an unfamiliar voice said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I recognize your voice. Finally."

"Who is this?" I demanded.

"Kemp."

I frowned. "I don't know you."

"You will," he replied ominously. "Now, do me a favor, please."

"I'm sorry but I don't"—

"Your little friends are in danger," he said sharply. "So just listen."

I swallowed.

"I have a friend, Freddie, who can, well, makes things explode," he explained. "And he's standing outside your little casino hideout right now, waiting for my signal."

"How do you know"—

"Shut up," he interrupted me. I shot a desperate look at Massie. She frowned.

"Now, if you don't do exactly as I say, I'll give him the signal to ruin your little headquarters, and all the people inside…"

He waited expectantly.

"You're bluffing!" I cried, frantic.

"Look out the south window, facing the water tower," he instructed me slowly.

I looked at the water tower. Seconds later, the tower burst and crumpled.

Massie and Landon rushed to the window.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

Kemp laughed. "That's right. That was just a preview. So do as I say. Tell everyone you're going out for some air. Don't tell them about this phone call. Meet me at the empty book store at 5th and 29th street in one hour. The back door's unlocked."

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

Kemp paused. "Well," he said. "There isn't much of a reason."

The line went dead.


	3. The Volatile Villian and the Kiss

PART 3: as told by Claire

I entered through the back of the building, as instructed.

The streets were bustling with people at this time of day, and the wide, grimy windows of the building allowed curious passer Byers to peer inside. Would they, though?

And if they saw the mysterious Kemp perhaps pointing a gun at me, would they intervene? Or would they turn and walk quickly down the street, forgetting what they saw for their own safety?

I shuddered in the dank coldness.

No one arrived for several minutes, adding to the suspense, but giving me a small portion of hope to grasp. Perhaps they wouldn't show?

Massie had been insatiably curious about the phone call. I implored her not to tell anyone, and Landon and Salem too (who were both in the room at the time of the phone call), though they were bleakly silent and bored throughout the conversation, something I assumed to indicate apathy. It took several minutes of careful explanation to persuade Massie the caller was someone in need of heroic assistance, who preferred to be rescued by a female blonde and a female blonde only…

She was extremely skeptical, of course—who could blame her?

But she let me go at my insistence.

I was dressed in my costume of course. Black tights, black short shorts, a black camisole, black, leather gloves (to eliminate the chances of someone finding and analyzing a finger print) a purple-colored longhaired wig (which was swept into a dramatic high ponytail) and a small black mask to protect my identity.

My black doc martins had a good edge for kicking and stiff material in case I walked on glass.

Finally, the back door swung open, and I saw three vague figures hurry inside. They were dressed in costumes too.

The smallest was the leader, and was being flanked by two much larger people.

The leader was dressed in all black, robber mask and all, as were the other two.

"Nice to see you," the leader greeted me enthusiastically. "I see you're hiding your blondeness."

I stiffened. It was Kemp's voice.

"Hello Kemp," I answered coldly.

"What can we address you as?" Kemp asked politely. He began to walk in wide, tentative circles around me, examining me.

"Phantom, thank you."

Kemp barked a laugh. "Quite a super hero alias you have there, Phantom. Is it in anyway related to your ability?"

"I'm afraid we're not well acquainted enough for you to be asking such questions," I replied smoothly. In truth, I didn't want him to know my ability. I needed it to be a secret, to use the element of surprise as a weapon on him.

"Well, that's a disappointment," he muttered.

He motioned to his friends. "Bear and Rage. Bear is the huge one who can lift a car with a finger. Rage is my ill-tempered friend who'll blow you to pieces if you don't cooperate."

I swallowed. "What is it you need?" I asked, trying to steady my voice.

"We know all about your stupid little rescue heroes club," Kemp spat, suddenly taking on an entire new disposition. This was his darker side. "And we don't appreciate it. The Defiance, I mean. In fact, we plan to destroy your little group before you can start crime fighting."

My heart was jack-hammering. "Do you?" I prompted dazedly.

Kemp smirked. "But, since you're so pretty looking and all…" he hesitated, his bright, animalistic eyes flashing, "I'm going to make you a special offer."

My breath caught in my throat. "What kind of offer?"

"Join the Defiance and help us dispose of your soon to be former allies," he said casually and nonchalantly, as if he were saying, "Join chess club! It's fun!"

I pretended to consider his offer. "What kind of benefits does this Defiance have?"

Kemp was silent.

"There are no benefits," Bear said slowly, and Rage snickered.

Kemp glared at them until they went silent.

"I'll show you, Claire, because I trust you." Kemp looked meaningfully at his companions. The smiled knowingly and left the building.

Dear god, I thought helplessly. What is he going to show me?

Kemp removed his mask.

I suppressed an astonished gasp.

_Honestly?_ Does the horrible villain _always_ have to be attractive?

His wavy golden hair was tousled from wearing the mask, and the bright blue eyes I noted even while he wore the mask shone brightly. His skin was peculiarly pale, but his features were annoyingly proportionate and perfect. He looked like a modern, American Hercules, without the bulging muscles and heroic smile.

He dropped the mask and approached warily. "By revealing my identity to you, I could be in big trouble," he said softly. It was back to Mr. Nice Kemp again. Was it wrong to adore his volatility?

"But I trust you, Claire."

What I knew for sure was that it was wrong to adore his kissing me.

He was experienced— very experienced, and yet also considerate.

If I had any morals or scruples, I would've stopped him. But at that moment it was as if nothing else existed…it had never been like this with Cam, or anyone else.

I felt horrifying clarity in our—union…It was as if we were soul mates, excuse the worn out term…at some point I numbly felt him remove my mask and I didn't do much to interfere with this, though I should've.

He pulled back, his bright eyes thoughtful. "When it's just us," he said quietly, "I don't have to worry about being the leader."

It was sort of a random comment, but I understood. He was explaining himself. He only acted like a total villain when his Defiance buddies were around.

"I…what is…what are we doing?" I stumbled over my words. What could I really say? Minutes ago I feared for my life, wishing fervently that I could forget Kemp's face and never, ever see him again. Now, somehow I was wishing the direct contrary.

"As long as you're part of the Violet Crusade, I won't destroy it," he promised, taking my hand. "And I'll kindly refrain from ridding the world of that undersized boyfriend of yours," he said fiercely, his alter ego surfacing for a fleeting moment. "Because it wouldn't do you any good." He lowered his gaze, sheepishly. "You must have a normal life here, right?"

"Um yeah," I said slowly, still trying to regain composure. I was still somewhat flustered by the kiss and his thoughtful words. "I was registered at Newton High school. I'm starting tomorrow…"

He considered this. "I dropped out of school when I joined the Defiance," he said. "But I'll get Tobias to register me there." He smiled mischievously. "None of your friends know who I am, or what I can do, or what I'm part of." He bent down to retrieve his mask. "I'd like to keep it that way, but at school, we'll be friends. I think you know not to tell anyone who I am when I'm at the school tomorrow." He headed for the door.

"Kemp," I called after him. He looked over his shoulder. "What _can _you do?"

He grinned. "You'll have to wait and see," he replied mysteriously, and I suddenly became the sole occupant of the abandoned, empty bookstore.


End file.
